Friday, November 5, 2010

Al-Intikhabat (Elections in Jordan)

It's elections season in the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan.  In fact, the elections for Parliament are only 3 days away.  My Arabic isn't serviceable for intellectual conversations on the complexities of elections in a kingdom, but there are a few things I've been able to gather about the whole situation from my courses, conversations and from a field trip we took last week.  Everything I've written here is a matter of subjective observation and personal thought, nothing more.

Campaigning for the elections started all of a sudden.  One morning, I stepped out of my host family's house for my walk to school, and the streets were filled with banners and campaign posters.  It turns out, it is illegal to campaign until one month prior to elections.  Therefore, once campaigning begins, no one wastes a single minute.  While in the states, we have months of humiliations and petty triumphs between candidates, in Jordan, campaigning is crammed into one intense month of posters, banners, campaign tents and social networking.

At the end of my street, they've erected a huge campaign tent.  Every candidate has one, and they are the center of political outreach for a candidate.  I am neither Jordanian, nor a man, so I've never been inside of one of these, but I've heard that the candidates are often there in the evening, and that people in the area can get a free meal of mansaf, the national Jordanian dish, here many a night during campaign times.



Earlier this week, we went on a field trip to the nearby town of Faheis with Malek Twal, the second in command of the Jordanian Ministry of Political Development.  He showed us around the town, and arranged meetings for us with two cousins who are running against each other for representation in the Parliament.  Here's a picture of Malek Twal explaining elections to us in the campaign tent of the first candidate:


This first candidate welcomed us into his tent, served us cold water and hot tea, and sat with us to answer all of our questions.  He didn't speak much English, so his son (who was studying in the UK and had come home to help his father's campaign) acted as translator for us (although, I actually understood most of what he was saying!).  With a hopeful and idealistic attitude that felt very familiar, he spoke at length about his concern for human rights in Jordan, and his duties to his constituents should he win.  He specifically cited the importance of delivering human rights to prisoners, and made a point of talking about his personal involvement with the issue including many visits to former prisoners to discuss their experiences including food, hygiene and their treatment.  He also expressed strongly the need for freedom of expression in Jordan. This man seemed to have a genuine interest in the rights of the people, saying that once in office, his door would always be open to his constituents to come discuss their concerns.  While this could easily be an empty promise, Jordan is a very small country, and voting districts are tiny compared to the size of what we're used to in the states, so it is possible although probably quite time consuming to retain a personal connection between Parliament member and constituency.

This man reminded me of the hopeful liberals who always run for city council or state legislature at home.  He has big ideas, and is earnest in his campaigning, but he probably doesn't stand a chance against the wheeling and dealing of the "big boys."

The second candidate we visited was the total opposite.  We met him down the road a bit at his campaign headquarters instead of in his campaign tent.  He ushered us into his office, and then left us in there with Dr. Malek, while he answered phone calls and the questions of his staffers.  Once he finally came in and sat with us (he's on the left in the picture below), we didn't have time for many questions.


What I did gather from this visit was the total opposite of our last visit.  The main issue of this man's campaign was essentially "to make a more fair Parliament."  At first I thought, huh, that's an interesting and specific goal, maybe that's good.  But, then I realized it's not much of a campaign goal at all.  And then I looked at the offices around me which, in the words of one of my fellow students looked suspiciously like "mafia boss" offices.  I'm not saying they were, I probably wouldn't have the slightest idea if I stumbled into the middle of something like that.  More to the point, it looked like a lot of money comes in and out of that office, and I got the sense that the candidate didn't really need to work very hard to prove himself to anyone.

I don't know enough to make a real statement about it, but perhaps this man was one of the "big boys" I referenced earlier, who will use all his power to squish the idealistic candidate and his real concerns about the people.  It seems likely.  The downtown of Fuheis was plastered with his posters:



Next, we drove back through Amman, making a quick stop at a candidate's house.  I'm not really sure why we stopped there since we didn't go in, but it certainly left an impression.  This house is enormous.  I know that this does not represent all candidates, but it certainly says something:


Even though I guess it's possible to run without a personal fortune, I'm not sure there are really any political candidates in the world that can run purely on values and a good message.  During our trip, I heard that a person could spend at least $100,000 on a campaign, and that $5 million was a high but not unreasonable number.  It certainly says something about a potentially scary pitfall of representative democracy.  Of course, in theory, the best ideas should win, but in reality, sometimes money can buy you a lot of clever, flashy advertising or a lot of votes.  Speaking of which, I learned that the going rate for a person's vote is about 500 Jordanian Dinar, and that the government is fighting really hard to keep people from buying votes.  Mostly this involves tracking registrations.  For example, if you're registered to vote in Aqaba, and you and a busload of Aqaba people show up to vote in Irbid, it's a pretty strong indication of something fishy happening.  Certainly, it's not always so obvious, but regulating elections is a part of having free and fair elections.

Jordan certainly faces some serious challenges in its push for democratization. Structurally speaking, a kingdom with a democratically elected legislative body has to be able to demonstrate that the elected officials have real power.  At base, if an elected body is just a gesture of appeasement to those who demand democracy, then democracy cannot flourish.  However, I believe that is not the case here.  Rather, it seems that Jordan's powerful executive branch has a sincere interest in taking steps to make the Parliament a vestige of true democracy in the region.  After the dissolution of the last Parliament, these elections are crucial in determining whether Jordanians can trust this aspect of their system.  It seems that if this session goes as poorly as the last, it will be very challenging to prove the legitimacy of this body.

Socially speaking, the elections face enormous obstacles.  Campaigning here is based largely on an intricate, and ancient system of social relations.  Families are the units that make up larger extended families, which make up tribes, and beyond that, there are tribes within larger tribes (we don't have the vocabulary for all of this in English, but I assure you, in Arabic, there are words for each of these groups as well as the relationships between the people in them).  I won't go into the details of this system, but let me just emphasize that it is deeply, deeply ingrained and determine a lot of social relations. So, in terms of elections, campaigning is controlled by the power structures within families, extended families, tribes, and bigger tribes, as well as all the relationships between families, extended families, tribes and bigger tribes.  Many, but of course not all, votes are cast more with this system in mind than the issues a candidate might represent.  In fact, many candidates don't run on a platform at all, and almost nobody runs as a member of a party.  So campaign slogans are almost always general, hopeful, and promise something no one can disagree with.   Without discussion of issues, political negotiation, or open debate between candidates, voting really comes down to the social connections of the candidates.

One might even go so far as to say that there isn't enough politicking in the politics here.








Hitting the books

I realized this morning that I haven't really shared much about my actual life here, just the big events like seeing Petra, and going to Egypt.  Since, I have two papers to write this weekend, this is the best time to procrastinate on my school work by doing something semi-productive.

Since 80% of my awake time is spent on academics, I'll talk about that today. I am in class approximately 17 hours per week.  Four days a week, I have Modern Standard Arabic, or fusHa class for an hour and a quarter.  This is by far my favourite class.  After spending the summer at Middlebury immersed in Arabic, this class feels the most comfortable for me, and it's also the most exciting in some ways.  In terms of grammar, we are reaching the upper levels of intermediate learning.  But since language learning is very gradual, retrospect is the best lens for measuring progress.  I love everything about MSA.  My professor for this class is a young woman (my guess is that she's about 24) who speaks fluent, nearly accent-less English.

Three days a week, I have an hour long course on Jordanian dialect, or al-'amiyyeh al-ordunieh.  Even though I'd never studied any dialects of Arabic before coming to Jordan, I was placed in the Intermediate level because of my more advanced MSA level.  This class is centered on vocabulary building and most of the grammar is taught by comparison to MSA.  Luckily, Jordanian dialect is closer than some dialects to Classical Arabic.  My professor for this class looks strikingly similar to Iran's president Mahmoud Ahmadenijad, but that's where the similarity ends. He has the most incredibly infectious laugh, and will laugh uproariously at even the most remotely funny thing.  Also, if anytime we guess the correct meaning of a new word or expression, he claps his hands and yells "ya salaam 'aleiki!" which literally means peace be upon you.  Positive reinforcement at its best.

Anyway, all the things I could say I love about Arabic classes would bore the hell out of anyone who reads this blog (if anyone does) so I'll keep my love to myself and move on.

I am also taking three "content" courses in English.  Each of these happens only once per week, but in a 3 hour block.  On Sundays, I have a course about ethnic and minority groups in the Middle East and North Africa.  Compared to the rest of my courses, the reading for this course is quite light, but part of understanding the region is understanding the complexity of the social make up.  It has been my general impression while being here that most Americans have absolutely no grasp of how deeply rooted these differences are.  

My favourite content course, which is called Contemporary Issues in the Arab World happens on Tuesday afternoons.  The class is a political science course, and we read about 100-150 pages per week for it.  It's very challenging, and the professor is a political advisor to the King Abdullah II, as well as a professor at the University of Jordan as well as a freelance academic. He's very discerning and detail-oriented, but encouraging as well (and he's taken a liking to me, which I find very likable in a person) .  For his course, I am working on a large research paper on how water issues effect the political relationships and economic development of the area (Iraq, Syria, Jordan, Israel-Palestine, and Lebanon).  Having spent my entire academic career before coming here between the pages of books, it is refreshing to be able to touch the subjects of my writing.  For example, this weekend, I will touch the Jordan river, which is one of the superstars of my research, and in a few weeks, I may have the opportunity to visit a few farms in the area to observe their irrigation systems.  Neither of these trips effects my real research, but it makes the project tangible.  

My last course of the week is about radical Islamic political movements, and is taught by a senile ex-diplomat.    Though he was surely once brilliant, he is now quite old and his class is unpredictable and stressful.  He took an immediate dislike to me on the first day of class, and has never given me a chance to change his mind.  In spite of this, I have learned in his course.  I won't regret it, I'm sure.  My project for him is about Ruhollah Khomeini and the 1979 Islamic Revolution in Iran.  I did a big research project on the doctrine of the movement about a year ago, so I am looking forward to deepening my knowledge of the topic.  

It's challenging to find the enough time and energy to complete the necessary work for my courses, but coffee is everywhere, and falafel is cheap (about thirty American cents for a sandwich) so there's fuel enough to sustain me.  

In any case, it's now time for me to return to essay writing.  Today, I'm writing about the fall of the Maronites in Lebanon, and the rise of the 'Alawis in Syria.

Unrelated to academics, here is a picture of laundry drying on the roof of a house I see every morning during my walk to school: